


Are You Still with Me?

by DarkKnightDan



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - No Overwatch, Crimes & Criminals, Drug Abuse, Feels, Homophobia, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Multi, Organized Crime, Recreational Drug Use, References to Depression, References to Drugs, Soul-Searching, Weapons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 15:40:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11558259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkKnightDan/pseuds/DarkKnightDan
Summary: "To let go of grief, one has to let go of the person that they were when the grief was caused. They have to change, they have to move on, and forget the past."An AU set in a world without Overwatch. A young Lena Oxton fights through the process of finding herself, and is helped along by a few familiar faces. Her journey will not take her along the yellow-brick road to Oz, though. Instead, Lena finds herself in the dark underbelly of her home, and in the presence in some of the most notorious criminals this side of the Thames.





	Are You Still with Me?

The rain was pouring down in a curtain almost too-thick to see through. It clamored off of roofs, on the sidewalks, the roads, nearly any surface that it could touch, it resonated on like a hammer striking a bell. The sound filled nearly the entirety of the young woman's conscience, but the rest of it was taken up by the dull slaps of her shoes as they collided with the pavement almost in time with the force of nature. Her breathing, too, took up some of her hearing, though its main contribution to her senses at the moment was the burning pain in her chest, begging her to stop. Stop, no, she couldn't stop. She wouldn't even glance over her shoulder to discern if she was still being followed or not. She didn't care at this point, she just wanted to get away. 

She passed under a streetlamp, which briefly illuminated her pale, sharp features. Her hair stuck to her face thanks to the rain, framing her features in a curtain of chestnut that nearly mimicked the hue of the eyes that stared straight forward ahead of her, ensuring that she didn't run headlong into any passersby. They may have been more help if they weren't blurred by both the rain and the tears, but she could see through well enough to discern when it was needed to dodge, duck, or turn in order to avoid colliding with someone. Smack, smack, smack, her steps increased in speed as her mind briefly called to the forefront of her conscience the burning in her cheek that had yet to fade despite the onslaught of water assaulting it. 

"Can't stop moving, can't stop moving, gotta get away, just gotta get away." Her brain was on autopilot, and Lena wasn't quite sure of how to flick off that switch at that point. She didn't know where she was running to, or what she was hoping to do when she got to her unknown destination, but part of her knew that anything was better than going back to the flat that she had just burst out of in a hurry. Thankfully, it seemed as though the mere thought of where she was going had the effect of switching off the auto-pilot in her brain, because Lena soon slowed to a jog that was easier on both her lungs, and her burning feet. Her breath still came in short rasps that burned her lungs from the inside out, but at least she could think straight now. 

She couldn't go to Emily's. That was the one thing that she knew for certain. By the time she got there, there was no doubt in her mind that her father, or mother, would be waiting there, ready to give her another reason to start running. So, Lena steered clear of the street that led to Downtown London, instead steering off onto a side street. She still had no idea of where exactly to go, but a sort of image had been conjured up in her mind. Maybe, just maybe, she could find one of the people who went to her school, rather, had, who didn't have anything against her. She knew there they tended to hang out, but was unsure if they would be there considering the weather, and the fact that the nighttime was quickly encroaching upon everyone in London, with those who led normal lives retiring for their homes for the night. 

The place was an old tube station, one that had been abandoned ever since the city had constructed a new line, only a few years ago. Since then, it had become a hangout for people that the city and the police alike deemed "degenerates, ingrates, cancers on society." Why that was the case, Lena didn't know, nor did she really care at the moment. She knew that she might be able to find some help down there, and so she headed straight for it. She'd passed by it a few times on her way from school, and had memorized the route to it from her house, just in case of this kind of situation. 

Her feet fell into a walk when Lena got off of the main road, away from where her family would be looking for her. She took a deep breath in an attempt to finally clear her mind, and perhaps stop the tears that were still flowing down her face. It took a moment, but she was eventually able to stem the flow, allowing her to put on a facade more appropriate for someone walking into the London Underground. The cold bit at her, the rain only accentuating the chill that came toward the end of fall, before the real freezing set in. She wished she had grabbed a coat, but hadn't the foresight for that when she'd ran out of her home. In fact, Lena didn't have anything on her. As far as she knew, her phone was still on the nightstand in her room, her coat still hung in the closet, her backpack was still on the floor with its contents spilled out. 

The walking wasn't an issue for Lena, despite the fact that the station was about five kilometers from where she'd diverted off the main road. She actually liked the fact that she was able to clear her head as she walked, so that she would be able to intelligently inform anyone she found about what she needed, and what had happened, if need be. She was still running over those events in her head, even despite her best attempts to shove them into the back of her mind. The picture was the one that really stuck out in her memory, surprisingly. It had been such a stupid, simple, innocent thing, yet it had been the reason behind all of this happening. It was the reason she probably wouldn't see Emily again, not without putting the both of them in danger, anyway. 

Lena's fingers curled into her skin tighter at that thought. She couldn't bear the fact that she had put Emily in danger through all of this, had even possibly brought the same exact fate down upon her. She couldn't know that for certain, and she hope that Emily's parents were handling it differently, but Lena knew all about Emily's family. They had both known the risks. 

The risks, God how many times had Emily mentioned them? How many places? Countless, for the both of them. Countless risks, too many of them taken. Lena thought that she had cheated the risks, and gotten away with everything over the past year. That was exactly as it had seemed, until she made one stupid mistake. One, stupid, little mistake that rivaled all of her successes, and destroyed the thing that she had held dear. Now, she was back at square one, and without a way of making things better. Maybe she could find Emily at school, if she still attended, maybe she could go to her flat later, sneak in, but she doubted it. Lena's best guess is that their game was over, and that she had been the one who'd gotten the officials to deny its continuation. 

Lena shoved these thoughts into the back of her mind along with the rest of the day's events as she approached the metro station. The feelings that was coursing through her still weighed down heavily, but she was able to think about other things, such as the various gang tags all over the entrance to the station. Lena walked with a slouch, hands at her sides as she descended down the dark staircase, the scent of old spray paint and recently-smoked marijuana rising up in a miasma to greet her. She wished for pockets to shove her hands into, but her running shorts didn't magically conjure any to comply with the request. 

Down in the station, the electricity seemed to have been turned off when the city abandoned it. Instead of the electric lights that had illuminated this place when Lena had come here with her family a small handful of times as a child, there were now barrels scattered about with fires lit in them. It conjured up an image of some sort of congregation of the homeless, the unwanted and abandoned of society. Taking a quick glance around, Lena realized that she wasn't far off from the truth. Some of the people standing around, smoking, looked as though they hadn't seen a bath or a good meal in a good handful of years. Thankfully, the smell of spray paint that consumed the entire chamber suppressed every other scent. Even as she strode into the place, there were people on nearly every wall, painting on what little empty space remained. Those not smoking or painting were fighting, gathered in small rings all around the place, even down in the pit where the trains had run when the station had been in use. 

" 'Scuse me." Lena turned to face the voice that she had assumed was directed toward her, to find a young man standing there. In one hand he held what looked like a joint, while the other was toying absent-mindedly with a cheap lighter. The man's face was concealed somewhat by the shadows of the station, but a few key features shown through. A light scattering of stubble, one that looked like it belonged on a schoolboy, umber eyes, and a hint of a smile that Lena took as comforting. The young man kept a distance away from her that seemed to say that he didn't want her to be afraid, a gesture that was only helped by the aforementioned smile. Lena felt her hands uncurl from the fists that they had been moments before as she stared at this young man, looking him over for a weapon. When she found none, she finally relaxed, if only a little. 

"You alright? You look like you've been out in the rain." Lena couldn't find words to respond with, as a knot in her throat swiftly formed whenever she tried to say anything. The young man took note of this fact, and pressed his lips together in thought before he stepped forward. "How about you come stand by the fire for a spell? You're soaking wet, and you gotta be cold." Lena couldn't find it in herself to resist, as the cold that had been biting at her outside hadn't lessened at all in its intensity when she'd come down into the station. So, she just nodded, and followed the young man over to one of the lesser-populated barrels, around which only he and she stood when he made a dismissive gesture toward two others who had been standing there. 

The warmth was comforting to Lena, the flame allowing it to slowly ooze through the cold that had seized Lena's small frame. The whole time she warmed up, she stared up at the man, now able to see his full face. By the way he looked, he guessed that he couldn't have been more than eighteen or nineteen, if that. The only two features that helped her lean toward the older option were the stubble on his face, and a scar on his cheek. The look in his eyes may have helped somewhat, but Lena had seen that same look in younger people before, so that didn't help his case much. 

The two of them stood in silence for what seemed like an eternity as Lena thawed out, until he flicked the cigarette that he had been smoking into the barrel in front of them. Lena recognized by the scent of the smoke that it wasn't marijuana he had been smoking, rather, just tobacco. The young man exhaled the last drag that he had been holding in his lungs, and crossed his arms over his chest as he turned to face her. The kind smile that he had been wearing was gone, and the man seemed like her was all business. 

"Now, what's someone like you doing down here?" The question loosened the knot in Lena's tongue somewhat, and she finally found herself able to say something to the man. 

"What do you mean, someone like me?" The man cocked one brow in response, before his eyes did a quick dash over her. The running shorts, the t-shirt that she had been wearing when her parents had burst into the room, her child-like features that made her look like she still belonged in middle school. The young man sighed, and ran the fingers of one of his hands through the mane of tawny hair that adorned his head, pressed down as though he had been wearing a hat recently. 

"I mean someone who doesn't belong here. You know what this place is, right?" Lena nodded in response, and he cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowed somewhat. "Then what are you doing here? This place is sorta dangerous, in case nobody filled you in on that part of the description." The young man gestured with his head back toward one of the rings of fighters, where the crowd was cheering as the contestants went at each other. 

"I know about this place." Lena's voice sounded a bit shakier than she would have liked when responding to him, but she couldn't take that back now. Instead, she just stood and waited for the next question that she expected him to ask. 

"What are you doing here?" 

"Running." The man looked as though he was going to say something snarky, perhaps related to her choice of attire, but then he seemed to realize the serious tone of her voice. His eyes met hers, and his lips pulled into a thin line before he slipped his hands into his pockets. 

"Parents? Bullies? What?" Lena shrugged as she turned her gaze away from him, already feeling the burn of tears as they slowly welled up in her once more. She saw them swimming at the edge of her vision, and they spilled over despite her best efforts. That seemed to be all the answer that the man needed, because he didn't ask the question again, he just stepped over and put a hand on Lena's shoulder, offering a hint of a smile despite the fact that she wasn't looking in his direction. "I know how you feel." Lena wanted to bark back that he didn't know how she felt, how could he? She doubted that he had been in this situation. "Mean, not with my parents, but with a group of people I considered my family. You'll be fine, kid." 

"D-don't call me a kid." Lena's voice cracked as she attempted to stifle her tears, and the man beside her gave a slight chuckle. He then stepped back, and turned to face her. 

"Right, I won't call you a kid, if you let me help you." Lena slowly turned to look at the man, who was still smiling as he kept his hands in his pockets. "I'll help you find your way in this place, because if you try to get on by yourself right now, you'll be eaten alive." Without waiting for a response, he extended his hand. "Name's Jesse, by the way, Jesse McCree." 

Lena extended her own hand, and shook Jesse's. "Lena Oxton, but most people call me Tracer."


End file.
